


Miscommunication

by FlirtyFroggy



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: AU, M/M, Overthinking, Seriously Overthinking, Slow Build, Suddenly Psychic, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David is having a bad week. A really, really bad week.</p><p>Set during Indian Wells 2013 where, conveniently for my purposes, David was extra cranky and he and Feli were joined at the hip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halotolerant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant/gifts).



> I started this... _thing_ months ago, but it spiralled out of control and got really big and I got distracted by other things. I don't even know what inspired it except I think it may be [halotolerant's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/halotolerant/pseuds/halotolerant) fault for putting the idea of 'Ferru with superpowers' in my head with [The You and Me Song](http://archiveofourown.org/works/606757), and I know that [There is Just One Thing I Need](http://archiveofourown.org/works/626997) and my comment about the lack of David/Feli fic made me think that maybe I should get off my bum and write my own. So, this is for you, I hope you don't mind.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not meant to imply anything about any actual people or their lives. It's just for fun.

For a split-second David didn’t know what had woken him so suddenly, his racing heart and the blinding light streaming through the gap in the curtains disorientating him, and then he realised it must have been the unholy din that had erupted all around him. He sat up and peered around the room, which looked as empty as it ought to be, despite the fact his ears were telling him it was full of people, all of them shouting at him.

He winced as pain lanced through his head, bringing a wave of nausea with it. The last time he had felt like this had been the morning after a Davis Cup celebration, and he knew that wasn’t to blame. There hadn’t been one of those for a while. Besides, he was sure he would remember if he’d spent the night before drinking champagne cocktails with Feli, or at least remember some of it, and – dear god, why the hell was everyone making so much noise? Was the hotel on fire? He couldn’t hear an alarm. He swung his legs out of bed and stood up with some difficulty. The noise seemed to increase and with it came an increase in the pain and nausea. His vision blurred around the edges and a patch of wall seemed to shimmer. He staggered to the door, twisted futilely at the lock for a panicked moment before realising he was trying to turn it the wrong way, wrenched the door open, and stuck his head out into the corridor.

It was completely empty.

He drew back into the room, closed the door and slumped against it, tipping his head back and taking deep breaths to try and quell the rising nausea. The noise grew louder until it no longer sounded like voices, just an indecipherable, deafening roar. Lights exploded behind his eyelids. He was aware of his hand pushing against the wall beside him as the room darkened, and a feeling of falling.

When he cracked his eyes open again the headache had receded to a dull stabbing and his vision seemed more or less back to normal. He still felt like he might throw up, but it was a vague notion and not an imminent threat. The voices were still there but they seemed far away, a conversation in a distant room, and he decided to file them away in the part of his brain labelled Things to Deal With Later. He was back in his bed, he realised, and judging by the light in the room several hours had passed. He frowned and lifted a hand to push his hair away from his face. The movement must have caught someone’s attention because he felt the bed sink as though someone had sat on it. He turned his head towards the movement and smiled in relief when he saw Javi. The “Oh, thank god”, that followed, however, was Feli’s. David turned his head a little further to see him hovering anxiously behind Javi. He wanted to say something reassuring, something to ease the worried frown creasing his friend’s forehead, but found he had no idea what to say. He turned back to Javi, who looked like he was also struggling to find words. He settled for kissing David’s forehead and saying “I’ll go and see where that damn doctor’s gone” before disappearing out of the room. David stared after him; he had never seen his coach so rattled. It was somehow the most disconcerting thing that had happened so far.

He looked at Feli, who was running a shaky hand through his hair. A rattled-looking Feli was a more familiar sight but still not reassuring. He gave a strained smile. “Fuck, Ferru,” he said, half laughing. David thought he heard something else, too, something like an echo, but pushed the thought away. To Deal With Later. “You scared us half to death.”

“What happened?” he said, sitting up slowly. His voice sounded steadier than he expected it to.

Feli shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. “We were hoping you could tell us. You didn’t show up to practice and you weren’t answering your phone. When we tried to get in, you were lying behind the door. Javi managed to push you out of the way enough to make a gap he could fit through. Check you were still breathing.” That strange laugh again, with its edge of hysterical relief. And the other thing. The echo. Not an echo, David realised. A whisper. Something other than the words being spoken. David cast around for something to distract himself with. He didn’t have to look far.

“What’s that smell?” A pointless question. He knew perfectly well what the smell was.

Feli pulled a face. “You must have thrown up right before you passed out.” He lifted his hand towards David’s face, then let it drop. David winced and raised his own hand. His hair was matted and sticky. He pictured himself on the floor in his underwear, lying in his own vomit. Mortification washed over him. Over the years they had seen each other in just about every state imaginable, but he was still horrified at the thought of Feli seeing him like that.

“Oh god,” he said flopping back onto the pillow. The impact reminded him forcefully that his head was in a delicate state and should be treated gently. “Ow.”

“Such a drama queen, Ferreti,” Feli said with a smile, a proper Feli smile. 

“I’m the drama queen?” David sat back up, being careful not to move too quickly.

“I’m not the one going into a swoon over a bit of sick, am I?” They would normally have carried on in this vein for some time, but David’s mind was a blank. Feli’s grin softened. “All out of witty retorts?” David nodded. “Poor Ferru.” 

“I’m ok,” he said. “It’s probably nothing.” Just a brain tumour or I’m going mad or something. Nothing to worry about. “I’ve probably got a virus or something,” he said instead. “Maybe some sort of inner ear thing? I felt dizzy before I passed out.” It was, to put it charitably, an understatement, but he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “I feel a lot better now.” This, at least, was technically true.

“I’m glad,” Feli said, so quietly David had to lean forward to hear him. “I was so worried. You were just lying there and I thought –” David heard it again as he watched Feli study his hands. That whisper, louder now, almost loud enough for him to catch the words. David closed the space between them and pulled Feli into a hug, closing his eyes as Feli wrapped his arms around him. He buried his face in Feli’s shoulder, more grateful than he could express for the comfort of a friend holding him tight. If there was one thing that Feli did well, it was hugs.

“David.”

“Hmm?” David lifted his head just enough to make himself heard.

“What?” Feli said, pulling back a little.

“You said my name.”

“No I didn’t.”

David fought off the panic that rose up in him. The voices that had sounded so far away suddenly sounded just a little louder. He opened his mouth to protest that yes Feli had said his name and he’d damn well better admit it right the fuck now when the door opened and Javi stalked in followed by a man David assumed was the doctor. Javi looked annoyed, a far more familiar expression than the one he had worn earlier. David closed his mouth.

“Ah, up and about I see. Good, good,” the doctor said. “Now, would you like to tell me what happened before you collapsed? As best you can.” Judging by his tone, the doctor appeared to think David was eight years old. David gritted his teeth and saw Feli smirk as he pulled away from their embrace. Bastard.

David described what had happened, skipping over the part about hearing voices and also the part about him being by the door because he thought the building was on fire. He didn’t think he could explain the second without the first.

“It sounds like a migraine,” said the doctor. David blinked. Despite what he had said to Feli, somehow he hadn’t expected there to be a perfectly ordinary explanation for what happened. “Have you ever suffered from them before?” David shook his head. “Well, they can come on suddenly. They’re often triggered by food, even foods that haven’t ever affected you before. If that’s the case it’s usually just a matter of figuring out what’s causing the problem and then avoiding it. Chocolate and dairy products are common culprits.”

“There you go, Ferru,” Feli said. “You just need to avoid all that chocolate cake and cream you eat in the run up to a big tournament.” Apparently, now that he knew David wasn’t dying, Feli was back to his usual smart-arsed self. David glared at him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Javi hiding a smile. The doctor seemed unperturbed by Feli’s sarcasm. 

“It may not be triggered by those things. Or it may not be triggered by food at all. Sometimes, it’s stress.”

“So avoid high-pressure situations,” Feli put in. “Try not to go down a set and a break in every match you play.” This time he earned himself two glares, and a confused look from the doctor.

“Sometimes, well, I’m afraid to say you may never find the cause and you may just have to learn to manage them, if it turns out to be an ongoing problem.” Tension rippled through the room at this.

“Ongoing problem?” Javi said. “What sort of ongoing problem? Will he still be able to play?”

“Oh, I would imagine so,” said the doctor, apparently oblivious to the consternation he was causing. “Attacks can be debilitating but most people manage once they’ve figured out the right combination of diet and medication. And it might just be a one-off and then you won’t have to worry about it at all.” He patted David’s foot in what he no doubt thought was a fatherly, reassuring way. “Not to worry, young man, we’ll soon get you right. I’ll give you something for the pain and nausea in case it happens again, and we’ll have to run a few tests to rule out any other causes of your symptoms.”

“Other causes?” Feli said.

“He means, you know, brain tumours and stuff,” David muttered. Feli’s eyes widened.

“Brain tumours, yes,” said the doctor, as if it was nothing. “And also infections. But I really think we’re dealing with ordinary migraines here. The symptoms all fit; pain, nausea, dizziness, distorted vision.” David noticed auditory hallucinations were not on that list, but then they wouldn’t be. The doctor didn’t know about them. He should tell him, he really should. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Did it matter though, really? He was going for tests anyway; they’d show up anything untoward. There was nothing to be gained from mentioning them except scaring the crap out of Javi & Feli again. “I’ll go now and let you rest. You look exhausted and sleep is the best thing for you right now.” He beamed at them all. David and Feli smiled back half-heartedly. Javi frowned and pulled the man to one side. A brief conversation ensued, involving a lot of gesticulating on Javi’s part and a lot of head shaking on the doctor’s. Then the doctor handed Javi a small white cardboard box, gave them all a cheery wave, and was gone.

“Prick,” muttered Feli after he had gone. David laughed quietly and felt a little better.

“Quite,” Javi said, placing the box on the bedside table. David heard the rattle of pills inside it. “He’s right though, David, you need to rest. We’ll leave you in peace.” This last was delivered pointedly to Feli, who began to protest.

David wanted nothing more than to lie back and sink into sleep, but he couldn’t stop his mind dwelling on what had happened the last time he’d woken up. The pain and confusion had been terrifying and he dreaded being alone if it happened again.

“Could you,” he began, cutting off Javi & Feli’s bickering before it got going. “I don’t really want to be alone right now. Could one of you stay?” 

“I can stay,” Feli said, without hesitation. David sagged a little with relief.

Javi looked exasperated but said nothing. Despite that, David distinctly heard his voice saying “This really isn’t the time, Feliciano.” David closed his eyes. Whatever was happening to him, he really wished it would stop. He counted to ten and opened his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Feli simply nodded in return, a single, firm motion that somehow managed to say, ‘Of course I’ll stay, you moron,’ in a way that only Feli could.

“Oh, Christ,” said Javi, and David couldn’t tell if it was out loud or not. “I’m going. David, get plenty of sleep. Feli, don’t keep him up. Read a book or something. He’ll have one lying around somewhere.” He ruffled David’s hair and kissed his forehead again. David could hear him muttering something but couldn’t make out what. He was rather glad of that. With a wave over his shoulder, Javi left, leaving silence in his wake.

“He’s right,” Feli said after a long moment. “You should sleep. Do you need anything?”

“A shower,” David said, feeling very definite about this if about nothing else. Feli raised an eyebrow and David heard the whisper again. He ignored it. “I’ll sleep after, but right now… I have vomit in my hair, Feli. The small wafts over me every time I move my head, it’s horrible. ”

Feli wrinkled his nose. “You do smell pretty gross.” David swatted half-heartedly at his arm. “Do you need any help? Can you stand?” 

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said, shuffling to the edge of the bed and placing his feet gingerly on the floor. There was a moment, as he pulled himself upright, where the room spun violently and David clutched blindly at Feli’s shoulder, but Feli’s arm was around his waist, holding him up, and he found his balance and the room quickly righted itself again.

Still feeling a bit wobbly but moving under his own steam he stepped into the shower. The warm water was like balm to his shattered nerves and it was quiet in there, he found. Nothing to hear but the spray. He stayed there far longer than he needed to, washing away the last traces of vomit, sweat and tension. So long, in fact, that Feli ended up knocking on the bathroom door, asking in a worried voice if he was ok.

“I’m fine,” he called turning the water off guiltily. It really wasn’t fair to give Feli two heart attacks in one day. He dried off, slung a fluffy white towel around his waist and left the bathroom, raking his fingers through his wet hair.

“Feeling better?” Feli asked from where he was kneeling on the floor by the window.

“Yes, actually. Knackered though.” David was about to ask what Feli was doing on the floor, then realised he was studying two books David had left there, looking from one to the other with a frown on his face.

“Go to bed then,” Feli said. “Why do you read this self-help shit?” he added, waving one of the books at David.

“It’s not self-help shit. It’s philosophical.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“So read the other one.” David collapsed inelegantly onto the bed and closed his eyes, not caring that his wet hair was probably going to leave water marks on the hotel’s nice clean linen. He was sure they’d had to wash out worse things than that. Silence fell and David began to drift off.

“So beautiful.”

David opened his eyes abruptly, snapping back into wakefulness. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Feli was sitting in a chair near the window, book in hand, frowning at David.

“Oh. I thought. Oh. Must have been dreaming or something.” David was quite sure he hadn’t been dreaming. No more than he had been all day, anyway.

Feli crossed the room and sat on the bed. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

David nodded. “I still feel weird. A bit…” he waved a hand around helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“Was it bad?” 

“Yes. I didn’t know what was happening and my head...” David didn’t know how to describe the feeling of steel bands tightening unbearably around his head while a thousand people screamed at him. “I don’t ever want to feel like that again.” He smiled at Feli and squeezed his knee, which was the only part of him within easy reach. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“Of course I stayed. Don’t be stupid. I was a little surprised you asked though.”

“I know, It’s pathetic. I just –”

“It’s not pathetic,” Feli interrupted, with a vehement shake of his head. “I didn’t mean I was surprised at you asking; I was surprised at you asking me.” David just looked at him in bewilderment. “I know there aren’t many people you would be comfortable admitting that to and, well, I didn’t think I was one of them.”

“What? Of course you are, what the fuck’s the matter with you?” David sat up and grasped Feli’s hand. The whispering started up again. David ignored it again. “Of course you are,” he repeated. “Why would you think that?” A shrug and a rueful smile. “I trust you absolutely, of course I do. I’m sorry if I ever made you think otherwise.”

“You didn’t. Not really. It’s just, you have these barriers, you know? You let people get so far but no farther.”

David was at a loss to know where this was coming from. No, he had never said it, but he had assumed Feli had known he was one of the handful of people he would want around him at a time like this, who he would trust with anything. It hadn’t always been that way, but they had grown much closer over the last couple of years or so, and David had assumed it hadn’t needed to be said. And, yes, he had barriers, he knew he did, perhaps even more so where Feli was concerned, but Feli had somehow breezed past them without him even noticing. Perhaps Feli hadn’t noticed either.

He squeezed Feli’s hand hard, hoping to somehow convey all of that through the medium of touch. Perhaps he succeeded a little, because Feli smiled at him and the tension dropped out of his shoulders. Again, David heard the whisper. No longer a whisper, this time it was loud and clear: _How can you be so sure when you don’t even see?_

OK, that didn’t even make sense. Fuck this. He was tired, his head hurt like hell and he was hearing cryptic disembodied voices that sounded like his friends. Nausea rose up in him without warning. His sudden mood change must have shown on his face because Feli let go of his hand, looking wary. David waved a hand at him. “My head,” was all he managed before a flash of pain made him double up, burying his face in his hands. He felt Feli get up from the bed, then return a minute later. A cool glass was pressed into one hand, and two small pills into the other. David swallowed the pills with some difficulty. Then hands were pushing him back gently onto the bed, ghosting over his forehead. Feli’s voice whispered soothing nonsense until the pain faded enough for him to drift off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic takes place in a world where neither David nor Feli has a girlfriend and where people who are found unconscious in hotel rooms are not immediately taken to hospital, which is what I hope would happen to me if my friends found me in David's state.


	2. Chapter 2

If David had hoped that whatever had happened to him would somehow undo itself when he woke up again, he was disappointed. He had woken to another loud, confused babble, though fortunately his headache had been merely a dull throbbing this time. After a few minutes he had felt able to open his eyes. The crack in the curtains had revealed dawn was just breaking outside. In the half-light he could see Feli sleeping at the foot of the bed, sitting up against the footboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him alongside David’s own. His book lay open against his chest where it had fallen from his hands. The room grew steadily brighter as David watched Feli sleep, light catching on his cheekbones, his unshaven jaw. He really was unfeasibly beautiful.

And incredibly kind. He could have, should have, slept on the sofa, or even in his own bed in his own room. But he had chosen to stay close to David, knowing David hadn’t wanted to be alone. He dreaded to think what Feli’s back would feel like after falling asleep like that. He had enough problems with his wrist without adding further aches and pains to his body. When Feli had awoken and smiled at him sleepily, asking how he was feeling, David had felt his heart twist. He wished Feli would stop messing around with beautiful women who saw only a beautiful boy with money and fame and a penchant for scarves, and find someone who could appreciate the real Feliciano.

And now he was in the shiny, sterile confines of the hospital, going through the promised tests. It wasn’t the first MRI he had ever had, but it was the first time he’d had one to examine his head. It was a disconcerting experience and not just because of the feeling of being in a giant futuristic coffin. He was finding that most of the babble was background noise now, but he couldn’t block out everything, any more than you could avoid hearing a conversation taking place beside you. And now that voices were no longer getting lost in the general cacophony, he was hearing far more than the little snippets he had heard the day before.

As the morning wore on it had become clear that the thing that he had so far avoided saying even within his own head was true: he had somehow developed the ability to hear the thoughts of those around him. If the voices had been hallucinations then he was sure the things he was hearing would be different, unless his subconscious thought considerably more of him than he did of himself. His English wasn’t brilliant, but the things the girl on reception had been thinking hadn’t needed a translation. The nurse who’d got into the lift with them had thought things about his arse that had actually made him blush. And he really, really hadn’t needed that mental image of Javi. He had assumed half a lifetime of locker room talk meant he had heard pretty much every lewd comment there was to hear but, as it turned out, women were worse than anything the ATP had to offer.

Blood tests followed, made more difficult by the fact that the nurse taking the samples was the one from the lift. She had moved on from her admiration of his backside and was now engaged in a thorough appreciation of his arms. He was fascinated, in a horrified kind of way, by the contrast between the professional, competent exterior and what was going on inside her head. You would never know that while she was deftly sliding a needle into his vein and attaching and detaching various tubes, she was also embroiled in a graphic and detailed daydream involving him, her and the bed on the other side of the room. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and prayed for the morning to go quickly.

The car ride back to the hotel passed in silence. Well, sort of. Nobody said anything, but David heard plenty anyway. He focused on the driver as being able to hear Javi’s thoughts somehow felt more creepy and intrusive, despite the fact his thoughts were mainly about David himself, training and lunch. It was worrying to realise that the driver was thinking mostly about the date he’d been on the night before and not, say, the road and the other vehicles on it. The driver was also, apparently, extremely hungover. Wonderful. David leaned against the window and tried not to beat his head against it.

“Do you feel up to practising?” Javi asked. _He looks terrible_ , he didn’t add out loud. David nodded. “Good. I’ve set something up with Wawrinka. We’ll see how you get on.” David nodded again, feeling relieved. He liked Stan and, unlike Nico or Tommy or, well, any of his friends really, he could be relied upon to mind his own business and not ask him how he was feeling every three minutes. He felt a stab of guilt. Thus far, he had avoided everyone but Feli, relying on Javi to reassure his friends that everything was fine. He hadn’t even replied to anybody’s texts let alone returned the multitude of missed calls he had found on his phone that morning. As if on cue, his phone buzzed against his thigh. He bit his lip when he saw Tommy’s name on the display, then slid the phone back into his pocket. Javi shot him a look. “If you’re going to play doubles with him you’re going to have to, you know, speak to him at some point.”

“I know, just…” David sighed. “Not today, ok? I don’t feel up to dealing with people today.”

“Fine,” Javi said. _Nice way to treat your friends_. David winced and turned away. “You know that the more you avoid them the more they’re going to worry something’s really wrong, don’t you?”

Something is really wrong, David thought. “I know. I’m sorry. I just can’t face it right now. I’ll speak to everyone tonight. Well, Tommy anyway. And Nico. After practice.” He just needed to get through practice first.

*****

Practice was a reasonable approximation of what David thought Hell must be like, or at least Purgatory. Stan was as friendly and laidback as David had grown used to; he’d asked once, at the beginning of the session, if David was alright and had accepted David’s assertion that he was a bit under the weather but generally fine. No problems there. But David was completely unprepared to deal with the inside of Stanislas Wawrinka’s mind. His thoughts were so loud. And there were so many of them. The fact that most of it was in French didn’t make it any less irritating. Quite the opposite in fact. And, as he had found in the hospital, images and emotions need no language. It wasn’t too bad when Stan was concentrating on practice and thinking about service placement and footwork. And it was really quite sweet how often his thoughts turned to his daughter. But they also turned to sex quite a lot, and David really wasn’t comfortable with the amount of very personal information he was now privy to. That was far more than he had ever needed to know about Benoit Paire, thank you very much. David didn’t know if this was just how Stan’s mind was or if hearing every little thing that crossed someone’s mind was a new development in his abilities, but he wished it would stop.

And there was another problem. There wasn’t a tennis player alive who wouldn’t love to know, every time, where his opponent was going to place his serve or whether that backhand was going to go crosscourt or down the line. Now David knew, and he hated it. It felt like cheating. Screw that, it was cheating. It was beyond cheating. It was the unfair advantage to end all unfair advantages. He felt sick to his stomach.

Add to all this the fact that the sun was hurting his eyes far more than was normal, his body ached as if this was the end of the tournament not the start and he could feel his blood pounding in his temples, and it was not a happy David who stalked off the practice court less than an hour later with barely a polite acknowledgement, leaving a bewildered Javi and Stan staring after him.

The figure sitting on the floor outside his room was instantly familiar and recognisable, despite the fact that most of it was hidden by a fire extinguisher. David considered turning round and walking away before he was spotted, but he couldn’t avoid his friends forever. Besides, he desperately needed a shower.

“You’re back early,” Juan Carlos said.

“And yet you’re already waiting for me, even though you’re not meant to be here until tomorrow.”

“Well, apparently you don’t answer phone calls anymore. Or return them.”

“Sorry. I really am. I just don’t feel like dealing with people at the moment.”

“I’m ‘people’ am I now?” There was no rancour in his words or his thoughts, but they still stung. David hung his head.

“It’s just…” David cast around for words to explain, but of course there were none. He shrugged helplessly.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” Juan Carlos said, getting up from the floor at last. He grasped David by the shoulders and ducked his head so he could see David’s face. “I just want to know that you’re ok. What did the doctors say?”

David shrugged again. “It’s probably migraines. They’ll know for sure when the tests come back.”

“That’s good. Feli taking care of you?”

David frowned. There was something behind the words, but David couldn’t put his finger on it. Juanca’s thoughts were more nebulous than anyone’s he’d come across so far, which was actually a relief after the hour he’d just spent with Stan. He brushed it aside. “He stayed with me last night. I still wasn’t feeling that great.”

“Whereas now you’re fine, obviously,” Juan Carlos said, before mercifully changing the subject. “You’re still playing doubles with Tommy aren’t you? You’re not bailing on him?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Call him then, will you? He’s driving me mad. And no more skipping out on practice. You two need it.” He pulled David into a quick hug and picked up his bag. “You know where I am if you need anything.” He gave a little wave that was half salute and set off down the corridor.

“Where are you going?” David called after him.

“Believe it or not,” Juan Carlos said without turning round, “I have things to do that don’t involve you at all.”

David smiled and shook his head, his heart feeling just a little lighter, and let himself into his room after only a minute of swearing at his key card. He stripped quickly, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor, and stepped into the sanctuary of the shower with a sigh of relief.

The knock at the door as he stepped out of the bathroom twenty minutes later would have made him jump if he hadn’t somehow already known that Feli was standing outside. His hair still dripping water all over the carpet, he opened the door, almost losing his towel in the process.

 _Christ, doesn’t he ever wear clothes?_ “Hi.”

“Hi.” David readjusted his towel and tied it firmly around his waist.

“I just wanted to see how you are,” Feli said, then, seeing David’s face, added “Sorry. Everyone keeps asking you that don’t they?”

“Yes, but it’s ok,” David said, stepping aside to let Feli into the room, their shoulders brushing as he passed. _Stop it stop it._ “I appreciate everyone’s concern.”

Feli snorted. “This isn’t a press conference. You don’t need to be diplomatic with me.”

David laughed. “But I do appreciate everyone’s concern. It’s good of them to worry about me.”

Feli flopped down on the sofa and shook his head. “You’re too nice for your own good, Ferru.” _Too nice for me._

David frowned. He had no idea what the last part meant. Actually, he had no idea what any of it meant. “I’m going to get dressed,” was all he said. _Please do. No don’t. Oh, hell._ Feli just nodded and started flicking through the TV channels. Apparently he was settling in for the afternoon. David pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt without bothering to dry himself. He and Feli must have seen each other naked a thousand times and it had been a long time since David had given it so much as a second thought. Now he felt self-conscious. The clothing clung uncomfortably to his damp skin and his hair was still dripping wet, soaking his t-shirt.

Feli glanced up at him. _Still practically naked. Stop stop stop._ A slide show of memories flickered through Feli’s head: David grabbing him and kissing him after a Davis Cup win; David laughing with Nico, so hard they both cried; David falling asleep on Feli’s shoulder; countless hugs, touches, fleeting glances.

David headed for the bathroom to get another towel, grabbing a dry t-shirt on the way. Once in the room he pulled his wet t-shirt angrily over his head and leaned over the sink, resting his head against the mirror and closing his eyes. Just as it had been impossible to deny the fact that he was somehow suddenly psychic, it was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid the thought that Feli… what? Might be attracted to him? Absurd. What would Feli see in him? And this was Feli, who wore his heart on his sleeve. And then decorated that sleeve with flashing lights and arrows, in case anyone missed it. If Feli liked him, everyone would know about it. He thought about Javi’s reaction to Feli staying with him the night before, Juan Carlos asking if Feli was looking after him. Maybe everyone did know. Everyone but him.

At one time the realisation that Feli liked him would have made him dance, if he were given to dancing. But he had tamped those feelings down a long time ago, and if the embers gave off the odd spark occasionally he had never felt in real danger of them catching fire again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had thought of Feli as anything other than a friend.

He didn’t look up when the bathroom door opened. “Are you alright?” David shook his head, his forehead still pressed to the smooth glass of the mirror. Feli’s hand on his shoulder was insistent, tugging him away from the mirror and pulling him into his chest. For the second time in two days Feli wrapped strong, comforting arms around him and David buried his head in his t-shirt. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the tears that came then, and he cried out his frustration and fear. Feli simply held him and stroked his hair until he quieted. _David David David._

“Sorry,” David said, pulling back and wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. It seemed somehow selfish to seek comfort from Feli under the circumstances. Feli frowned at him.

“Will you stop saying that? There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re not inconveniencing anyone, we’re all happy to help. I’m happy to help. You had a scare and you’re clearly still in pain and there's nothing wrong with asking people to help you.” Feli reached out and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into David’s face. “Please let me help you.” _Please don’t push me away._ Feli’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing gently at the side of his neck. David realised it was not the first time he’d done this. He’d never noticed it before; it was just Feli being Feli. Now it seemed significant. David shivered.

“Ok,” he said. “Help. I mean, I’d like you to. If you would.” It was possibly the most inarticulate request for help ever, but Feli didn’t seem to mind. He smiled, slowly, gently, making David’s stomach flip in a way he’d thought it never would again. _Thank you._ His hand was still on his shoulder.

“What do you need?”

What did he need? Beside’s a way to get rid of the headaches and voices. He shrugged. “Normal. Something normal.”

 _Normal. I can totally do normal._ Feli thought for a minute. “Gladiator’s on in,” he checked his watch, “Five minutes. What could take your mind off your problems better than a couple of hours of violence and death?”

David chuckled and reached for his t-shirt, dislodging Feli’s hand from his shoulder. “Gladiator again?”

“It’s a good film,” Feli protested, turning to leave the bathroom. David followed, tugging his t-shirt on as he went. “And it’s that or porn.” _Fuck. Idiot. What are you doing?_

“Ok,” said David, deciding to ignore the porn thing because god knew he had enough to deal with right now without thinking about Feli and porn. “But only if you promise not to complain when I spend the whole film pointing out the historical inaccuracies.”

 _Whatever you want._ “I make no promises.” Feli turned round to face him. “Do you –” whatever he had been about to say was lost as he tripped over the wastepaper basket and went sprawling onto the floor. There was a moment’s silence before David doubled up, howling with laughter. Feli pouted and made a fuss about getting up again, but he was laughing too. “Glad I could cheer you up,” he grumbled as they both sat on the sofa. David’s laughter sobered up into a smile punctuated by the occasional giggle.

“I’m sorry. It was the look on your face. You thought you were being so cool and then –” laughter overtook him again. Feli just smiled and shook his head. _You should be this happy all the time_.

“Will you pull yourself together? This is a very serious film.”

“Sorry,” David said, trying to keep a straight face. “I’ll be good.” He was still giggling as the film started but he managed to keep from laughing out loud.

“So,” Feli said as they watched Maximus’ family being butchered. “Are you going to tell me how this morning went or do I have to guess?”

“It was fine. Won’t get the results back for a couple of days.”

“And you haven’t had any more – what do you call them? Attacks? Episodes?”

“I don’t know. And no, I haven’t had any more. I think you’d have noticed.” Feli nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m still getting headaches, and feeling a bit sick now and then. The sunlight hurts my eyes.”

“Maybe you’re turning into a vampire,” Feli joked. For a brief moment, David considered the possibility. It was really no weirder than what was actually happening to him. Feli raised his eyebrows at David’s hesitation. “I was kidding, Ferru. Besides, vampires burst into flames in the sunlight, they don’t get headaches.”

“Ah. Probably not a vampire then.”

“Probably not. Still, though. Sunlight hurting your eyes. It’s not good.”

“You mean not being able to look where I’m going or see the ball might adversely affect my game? Thanks, Feli, I wouldn’t have come to that conclusion on my own.” David regretted the snapped words as soon as they were out of his mouth and there was another apology on the tip of his tongue.

“You’re very moody these days, you know,” was all Feli said. And he rested his arm along the back of the sofa, just behind David’s head, as he had done a thousand times before. David stiffened. _What’s wrong?_ He was being silly, he told himself. Whatever else might be going on, this was still just Feli. He relaxed and settled back into the cushions, letting his head fall back to pillow on Feli’s arm. He felt something in Feli’s mind release, as though he had been somehow mentally holding his breath. They watched the rest of the film in companionable silence, David too aware of the heat of Feli’s body beside him, of his fingertips brushing David’s shoulder, to offer his usual running commentary.

They were both dozing off as the credits rolled and David was jolted awake by the buzz of his phone across the room. He wriggled out from underneath Feli’s arm and went to answer it, ignoring Feli’s muttered imprecations against people who interrupted other people’s naps with inconsiderate phonecalls. “It’s Nico,” David said when he saw the display. Feli rolled his eyes and David threw a cushion at him. Mentally preparing what he hoped was an appropriate apology for fobbing Nico off via Javi for the last day and a half, David hit the answer button.

Twenty minutes later David hung up, most of the conversation having consisted of David reassuring Nico that he wasn’t dying and Nico reassuring David that he wasn’t angry just worried, which if anything just made David feel worse. Feli was fast asleep on the couch, mouth open, snoring quietly. It really wasn’t a good look on anyone, not even Feli. David considered taking a photo with which to delight the people of Twitter but decided to phone Tommy instead. He could fuck about after he’d apologised to his doubles partner.

“Thank fuck. You’re not dead then?” Tommy greeted him.

“Not quite. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have avoided you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Javi kept us updated. It’s not easy to deal with people asking how you are all the time. I know.” Tommy did know, David realised. Probably better than anyone. He should have given his friend more credit. “So, how are you?”

David laughed. “I’m fine. Tired and headachey but, you know. Fine.”

“Uh huh. Shouldn’t have asked really should I? Fine enough to practice this evening?”

“Sure. Um, not sure where Javi is or if we can get a court.”

“Javi’s here and the court’s already organised. Really, Ferru. Where is your head?”

David had no answer to that.

*****

Practice at night looked like being better than during the day. The floodlights were kinder to his eyes than the sun and it wasn’t nearly so hot. He and Feli, who had opted to tag along, were casually hitting balls over the net waiting for the others. He heard his phone vibrate against the bench and signalled to Feli to stop while he answered it. 

It was a text from Stan. David had called him on the way down to the courts but it had gone straight to voicemail. David hated voicemail more than just about anything on earth so instead had texted a simple ‘Sorry’. He probably owed Stan some sort of explanation as well, but didn’t think his English would stretch that far today. Stan’s reply was equally succinct. ‘No problem. Feel better.’ There was a little smiley face. David shook his head. He was glad that Stan was so understanding, but he couldn’t help wishing that everyone would stop being so, well, understanding. He had been appallingly rude to just about everyone. Wasn’t anybody going to yell at him?

Fortunately, at that moment Javi arrived with Tommy and Salva. “Feeling better are we?” Javi said, his voice dripping sarcasm. Tommy and Salva exchanged glances. Feli looked like he was regretting his decision to tag along. David shrugged. He felt a kind of grim amusement from his coach, tangled up with annoyance and a little relief. _Must be better if he’s deliberately provoking me_ “The second we’re done here you go and apologise to Wawrinka. Now get running.”

“I’ve already apologised to him,” David said, heading back onto the court.

“Good. You,” he said, lobbing balls in Feli’s direction. “Do something useful.”

Despite the early promise it had shown, this practice was almost as big a disaster as the first had been: Javi was still pissed off about him storming out and his displeasure radiated across the court, David was so distracted that practically every ball he hit went outside the lines, Tommy was so worried about David that he was almost as bad, and everyone was jumpy and tense. It was a shame. He’d been looking forward to playing doubles with Tommy. They weren’t the Bryans by any stretch of the imagination but they always had fun. David wasn’t having fun now.

After about thirty minutes Javi called for a break. David collapsed onto the nearest bench. By some unspoken agreement Feli, Tommy and Salva congregated some distance away. David closed his eyes as Javi launched into the expected tirade, not really even listening to the words just letting Javi’s anger wash over him. For the first time in a very long time, probably not since David was a stroppy teenager, it feel like they weren’t on the same page at all. Instead of focussing on Javi’s instructions all of David’s energies were being poured into blocking out Tommy and Feli’s thoughts, trying not to know where every shot was going to be placed before they had even swung the racket. He needed to work on that far more than he had ever needed to work on his serve. But how could he possibly tell Javi that? They were pulling in different directions now, working towards a different goal, and Javi didn’t even know. The thought made David want to cry.

Javi’s lecture stopped abruptly and David felt hands resting on his knees. “David, look at me.” David opened his eyes to find his coach crouching in front of him, all traces of anger gone. _Talk to me_ “Do you need to stop? I don’t mean practice,” he added as David opened his mouth to speak. “I mean, stop. Tell them you’re ill, pack up, go home.” David stared at him. Go home. Not go to Miami. Not take a few days, see how you feel, prepare for the next tournament. Pack up and go home. Javi had never, in all the years David had known him, suggested such a thing. Even if he’d thought it he would never voice it, knowing David wouldn’t go for it. _Something’s wrong with you. What aren’t you telling me?_ David knew he wasn’t worrying about test results. Somehow Javi knew there was something else going on. He wouldn’t be suggesting giving up otherwise. “David?” It was tempting. It was really tempting. Just go home, figure this out away from the court, away from the tour, where he could deal with one thing at a time. And tell Javi. This would be so much easier if they could work this out together. He opened his mouth to let the truth come spilling out and then closed it again. He shook his head, Javi’s mingled disappointment and relief hitting him like a blow. He couldn’t tell him. And he couldn’t give up either.

He glanced over to where Feli, Tommy and Salva had long since stopped pretending to be deaf and were watching proceedings anxiously. David could feel Feli worrying from across the court. With a sigh he got up and walked over to them. “Sorry guys.”

Feli frowned. _Stop apologising_. “Would you stop apologising?” David almost laughed but choked it down. It came out as a kind of half-hysterical gasp instead, prompting further anxious looks.

“I take it practice is over?” Tommy said. Javi nodded before David could speak. “Ok then,” Tommy said, too brightly. “We’ll tidy up here. You two head back to the hotel and get some rest.” He indicated David and Feli. David felt Salva’s amusement at Tommy treating them as a pair but he was too tired to care. He hoisted his racket bag and set off back to the hotel, Feli trailing in his wake. His mind was entirely focused on blocking out Feli’s thoughts. He just didn’t want to know.

They were back at the hotel before Feli startled him out of his thoughts. He looked round, surprised to find they were outside his room. He had absolutely no memory of getting there. The thought would have been worrying if he had been less exhausted.

“Do you – are you – do you need me to stay with you?” Feli said, watching him anxiously. Yes, thought David, followed by some uncharitable thoughts about Feli’s motives, which were completely unfair and made David feel even worse. Feli had never been anything but a good friend to him.

“That’s ok,” he said, though it wasn’t ok at all. “I don’t want to put you out. You’re playing Gulbis tomorrow, you should rest.”

Feli sighed. _Oh my God_. “What happened to letting people help you? I can sleep just as well in your room as in my own. And you’re not putting me out, Ferru, I told you –” David stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I know. I know. I just think I need to be on my own for a while.” Even without psychic powers David knew Feli didn’t believe him but he didn’t push the issue. He simply nodded and wrapped his arms around him in a hug that made him want to cry. Again.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he whispered. David nodded, not trusting himself to speak without bursting into tears. He wondered if he were having a nervous breakdown. Feli gave him one last smile and set off down the corridor. David watched him leave. You’re an idiot, Ferrer.

“Feli, wait.” Feli spun round to face him. “Maybe company would be a good idea.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started posting this it was mostly finished bar some missing scenes and some polishing. I figured I would post the first couple of chapters, fill in the missing scenes and then post a new chapter every day or every other day. Then real life intervened and decided not to give me any writing time. When I did get some writing time I discovered two things: 1) The missing scenes were trickier to write than I anticipated - that's why they were missing in the first place; 2) When I did write the missing scenes what I wrote inevitably changed what came after and the bits that were already written had to be re-written (this is why I generally try not to skip ahead when I write). I'm slowly getting there and though I certainly can't post everyday, I will endeavour to do better than posting two chapters in quick succession and then nothing for two weeks.
> 
> Tl;dr - Writing is hard, RL does not care about fanfic, and I fucked up my posting schedule. Sorry.

For the second morning in a row David woke up with Feli fast asleep in his bed. At least this time he was lying down under the covers rather than propped up against the footboard. David had been so exhausted the night before that he’d gone to bed as soon as he got out of the shower. Feli, to David’s immense gratitude, had said nothing, just sat beside him on the bed and flicked the TV on. His presence was soothing despite some troubling thoughts and David had fallen asleep to the sound of him hurling abuse at the stupidity of game-show contestants.

At some point during the night Feli had ended up with his arm wrapped around David’s waist and David could feel his chest pressing against his back. David closed his eyes and let himself drift back off to sleep and told himself it was because it was just too early to get up.

When he woke up again he was alone in the bed. For a blissful second he thought the only thing he could hear was the shower running in the bathroom. Then he noticed it – the whisper of a thousand voices. It was a gentle background noise only, like the sound of distant traffic, and was a vast improvement on the previous two mornings. Still, he would have preferred it if he couldn’t hear them at all.

The water shut off in the bathroom and Feli appeared a minute later, one towel round his waist and another slung around his neck. He smiled when he saw David was awake. “Morning. You look better.” This was accompanied by a mini-movie apparently playing in Feli’s head: a domestic fantasy of them waking up together every morning, of exchanging coffee-flavoured kisses over breakfast, of sharing showers and hunting for lost shirts and running late. The combination of happiness, longing and despair took David’s breath away. He forced what he hoped was a natural-looking smile onto his face. 

“Thanks, I feel better. Morning,” he added belatedly, feeling his breath catch when Feli’s smile grew wider. He looked away. 

“I was going to go down for breakfast. Coming?”

David shook his head. “I was thinking I’d go for a run. Clear my head a bit.”

“Is that a good idea? I mean, you look better but that’s, you know, relative to how you looked before.” Feli’s head helpfully provided an image of David unconscious on his hotel room floor, then transposed the picture to the side of a road somewhere.

“I’ll be fine. If I can’t handle a two mile run then I have no business being here at all and I may as well go home now.”

“And I think we’ve already established you’re not going to do that.” David was hit again by a deluge of emotion from Feli: fear that David would go home, hope that he would get well, relief that he was staying where Feli could be with him, guilt at selfishly wanting him to stay even if it wasn’t what was best for him; a tangled mess of self-recrimination and anxiety. Christ, it was exhausting being in Feli’s head. No wonder he was such a basket-case sometimes.

Feli went off to breakfast while David headed out for his run. He set off slowly, taking careful note of where he was going. His mind had a tendency to wander when he ran, his feet going where they wanted. That was fine at home, where he knew every road and every path and could walk them in his sleep, but it was probably not a good idea here. 

Running, really running, was a relief after what seemed like a claustrophobic couple of days. He felt his over-crowded mind emptying as he ran; no need to sprint to reach that drop shot, no need to think about where he was going to place that forehand, no need to worry about blocking out anyone’s thoughts; just one foot in front of the other, on and on, the people around him nothing more than white noise.

Of course, the trouble with an empty mind is that it’s just begging to be filled with something. In the absence of an immediate solution to the small matter of his unwanted telepathy, there was really only one thing that could be.

Feli.

He couldn’t actually remember the first time he had met Feli, or the second or the third. It seemed like Feli had always been there, though he knew that wasn’t true. Likewise, it seemed like his feelings for Feli had always been there, though that wasn’t true either. All he knew for sure was that Feli had been the third, and by far biggest, element in the triumvirate of People David Couldn’t Have. First, there had been his crush on Juan Carlos, which he cringed to remember now. It really had been a crush; a silly teenage thing, he’d been little more than a kid. Then there had been that boy from school whose name he couldn’t even remember now – Pedro? Pablo? – but who remained clear and vivid in his head as the most beautiful person David had ever seen who wouldn’t give him the time of day. And then Feli. 

Feli who had always been generous and beautiful and funny, and more shy and thoughtful than most people realised. Feli who lit up the room and drew everyone to him. Feli who could throw a tantrum better than any two-year-old David had ever met. Feli who never bought one pair of sunglasses when he could buy five. Feli who wanted to get along with everyone, he really did, but didn’t always succeed. Feli who liked girls not guys. Feli who, without even knowing it, had stomped all over David’s heart when it turned out he did like guys but only if they were called Fernando.

That had hurt, David remembered. He felt like it shouldn't have done - When you love someone who loves someone else, the gender of the someone else shouldn’t matter, should it? But it did. When Feli had gone out with one woman after another that had been bad, but it meant that there was no way Feli could ever return his feelings and he could live with that. Then it turned out that Feli could return his feelings after all, but didn’t.

He had moped about it for a while, feeling sorry for himself, and had a couple of ill-advised flings with people he couldn’t really care less about. And then he had moved on. It hadn’t happened overnight, but it had happened. David wasn’t immune to the things that had made him fall for Feli in the first place, but there had no longer been that ache in his chest when he smiled, that twist in his gut when the smile was directed at someone else. There had been no leap of hope when Feli and Nando had finally split for good, just compassion for a friend at the end of a relationship.

And now he found that Feli wanted him as much as he had once wanted Feli and David didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was hard to shake the feeling that the universe was mocking him, though he was sure the universe had better things to do. Then again, the universe had apparently seen fit to give him psychic powers, so who knew.

Was psychic even the word for it? He had always understood psychic to mean ‘being able to know what people were thinking’, but it seemed to be going way beyond that. He knew what people were feeling too, and it seemed to be getting stronger. Or perhaps that was just Feli. He’d been able to pick up a sense of Juan Carlos and Javi’s emotions but nothing more than that. That morning he had felt Feli’s emotions nearly as intensely as his own. Was that a new development? Was that just because that’s what Feli was like? Was it because there was something between them? Were his emotions even his own or were they an echo of Feli’s? Had knowing how Feli felt genuinely re-awakened old feelings or was this something that would go away when – if – these abilities did? Were they really ‘old’ feelings or had they been there all along? Had he ever really got over Feli or had he been kidding himself? Was he – This was getting him nowhere. He needed answers, not more questions. He stopped running and looked at his watch. He needed to get back to the hotel and then go to practice. Then there was Feli’s match against Gulbis, which was a crappy match to have first round, and when had he started paying so much attention to Feli’s schedule? He let out a groan that caused several people to turn to look at him curiously. He waved sheepishly at them and set off back to the hotel, resolving to put all thoughts of Feliciano Lopez out of his head. He even succeeded for about five minutes.

*****

It was with no surprise at all that David opened his door later that evening to find Feli standing on the other side of it. He had been out of his seat before he had even heard the knock, something he didn’t actually realise until he was halfway across the room. It was more than a little disconcerting.

“Stupid prick,” Feli said, shouldering past him. It took David a second to catch up with Feli’s train of thought.

“Gulbis?”

“Of course, Gulbis,” Feli snapped. “Who else would I be talking about?” David thought back over the match, which he had just happened to have on in the background and definitely hadn’t sought out or watched intently, to try to figure out what Gulbis had done to prompt this little strop. Besides winning, obviously. “I mean, where the fuck is useless Gulbis when you need him? He plays like shit for ages and makes you think you have a chance, then out of nowhere he fucking plays like that? A few more rounds, he’ll take out a bunch of good players, then he’ll implode and fuck off again. Bastard. Why couldn’t he implode against me? And what’s with the fucking jazz-hands thing anyway?” Feli’s impression of Gulbis’ off-hand was so uncanny David burst out laughing. After a second, Feli joined him and sank down into an armchair.

“Sorry about your match,” David said, perching on the arm of Feli’s chair. Feli shrugged. “What will you do? Stay or go on to Miami?” Stay, he thought. Please stay.

“I’m staying. I’ve got doubles with Milos, remember? And I think I’d stay anyway.” _For you. You need me. I think. I hope. Please need me._

David reached out and squeezed Feli’s hand. He felt a thrill go through Feli that was wholly out of proportion with the simplicity of the gesture. “I’m glad you’re staying, whatever the reason,” he said. Feli turned to face him and David’s head was filled with thoughts of the gap between them closing and their lips meeting and Feli leading him to the bed that was oh-so-close and everything he had ever dreamed of coming true. He didn’t know if the thoughts were his or Feli’s or both.

Feli was the first to break the spell. “What do you want to do tonight?” he said, reaching for the remote. He flicked through the channels. “Hey, it's my match. Want to watch it and yell insults at Gulbis?”

“That definitely seems like a mentally and emotionally healthy thing for you to do." David took the remote from him and turned the TV off. "Besides, I did that this afternoon.”

“You watched my match?” Feli was surprised and pleased in equal measure. They didn’t generally watch each other’s matches unless it was important – it was just work, after all, and if you watched every match your friends played you’d never have time to do anything else. David wondered what to tell him and decided on the truth, if not the whole truth.

“I wanted to see you win.” It perhaps wasn't the best thing to say.

Feli grimaced. “Sorry to let you down.”

“You’ve never let me down, Feli,” David said seriously, because it was true and he wanted him to know it. If he couldn’t tell him everything, he could at least tell him that.

Feli bit his lip and then all of a sudden David found himself engulfed in a hug that almost sent him flying off the chair. They righted themselves and David wrapped his arms around Feli in return. They stayed that way for quite a while until Feli’s thought’s had stopped whirling and he was focussed on the rhythm of David’s heart. David could hear him counting the beats, feel their breathing start to synchronise. It was extremely weird and comforting at the same time. “Thank you,” Feli said eventually. “You know, everyone else thinks I’m so flaky. But you’ve never treated me like that.”

“You’re not flaky.” He pulled back a little and tapped Feli’s temple gently. “You just have too much going on up here.” And perhaps only God and David knew how true that was, which was a terrifying thought that David pushed to one side immediately. Feli gave a rueful laugh of acknowledgement. “And not everyone thinks of you like that. People who don’t know you, maybe. People who can’t see past the surface. But none of your friends think you’re flaky, or anything like it. Please don’t think they do.”

“Thank you,” Feli whispered and David thought again about closing the space between them, about sinking into Feli and losing himself in him. And therein lay the problem. David had never been less sure of his own self than he was right now. Losing himself, and losing Feli in the process, was a real possibility.

So he ruffled Feli’s hair with a smile, got up from the chair and turned the TV back on. And they spent the evening shouting at the football and ordering room service and arguing about whether a film could ever be better than the book it was based on, and determinedly didn’t talk about anything important at all.


	4. Chapter 4

The doubles match with Tommy went about as well as David had expected it to, which is to say very badly indeed. On a good day they would struggle against Querrey and Isner, and this was most certainly not a good day. Practice had been hard enough; this was impossible. He had never quite appreciated just how many people there were on a tennis court during a match – his partner, their opponents, the umpire, the line judges, the ball kids. Completely engaged in the match, their thoughts had a piercing clarity that made it impossible to block them out. And then there was the crowd. He had not anticipated the intensity of an American crowd cheering on a home team. Everything seemed amplified to unbearable levels. His head was pounding; the sun was blindingly, impossibly bright. And somehow, through it all, he could feel Javi in the players’ box, radiating concern.

The upside, if there could be said to be one, of losing in straight sets was that at least the torture was over fairly quickly. If it hadn’t been for Tommy it would have been over even quicker. He didn’t seem too concerned about the result, however, as they towelled off in the locker room. _Don’t ask how he’s feeling, don’t ask if he’s alright._ “When do you get your test results?” he asked too-casually. _Idiot. That’s basically the same as asking if he's alright._ David supressed a smile.

“Should be some time today, I think,” David said in some surprise. He’d almost forgotten about the tests. He supposed he should be worried about how easily he had accepted that he inexplicably had psychic powers, but all he felt was a kind of tired resignation. There was really only so much obsessing you could do before the mind switched off in an effort to protect itself.

“Are you, uh, worried about them, at all?” This time, David didn’t bother to hide the smile.

“Are you suggesting I was too busy worrying about test results to properly concentrate on the match?”

“Well, yes. It wasn’t your best match, was it? You played like a drunken donkey.” David laughed but Tommy didn’t and the smile fell from David’s face. Tommy peered at him closely. “You don’t look good, Ferru.”

“I don’t feel good,” David admitted. 

“You should go and lie down. Get some sleep. I’ll call Feli, send him over to look after you,” Tommy said, with what could only be described as a leer. 

“Look, there’s nothing –” David started before Tommy’s jolt of incredulous amusement stopped him. To say there was nothing going on between him and Feli was a blatant lie, and he and Tommy both knew it. “I don’t know,” he said after a very long pause. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That much is obvious,” Tommy said, his voice slightly muffled for a second as he pulled a clean t-shirt over his head. “For what it’s worth, I think Feli has a much clearer idea than you do.”

“I – what?” David said, completely thrown.

“Seriously Ferru, you look like crap,” Tommy continued as though he hadn’t said anything untoward at all. He wondered if Tommy had actually said it out loud. “Get dressed, go lie down and get some sleep.”

So David did.

He was shaken gently awake a couple of hours later by an anxious-looking Javi. David blinked at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Sorry to wake you. I thought you’d want to know straight away.” He held up a large envelope. David stared at it blankly. “Your test results,” Javi explained.

“Oh.” David pushed himself upright. Fear twisted in his gut, all the worse for being unexpected. He took the envelope and looked at it for a long time, telling himself that staring at it wasn't going to change the contents. He slowly ran his finger underneath the sealed flap, peeling the glue apart. He pulled the sheaf of papers out, mostly graphs and charts and copies of scans that meant nothing to him, and read the covering letter. It was in English and the words seemed to dance on the page, meaning skipping away from him whenever he tried to reach for it. He thrust the papers wordlessly at Javi, who took them and scanned quickly through the first page. David felt his relief a second before the smile broke across his face. _Thank God._

“It’s all clear,” Javi said. “No tumours, no infections, no lesions, nothing. You’re fine.”

David knew he should share in Javi’s relief but found he couldn’t. He hadn’t realised until that moment that he had been hoping that something would show up in the test results. Tumours could be operated on, infections treated. There was a rhyme, a reason. Instead, all he had was a head full of voices and unanswered questions. “Are you sure?” he said.

Javi scanned the letter again. “Absolutely sure. It’s very explicit.” He looked up; his smile faded when he saw David’s face. “Are you alright? I thought you’d be happy about this.” 

“I am,” David said, trying to force a smile onto his face. Judging by Javi’s reaction, he failed dismally. He gave up the attempt. “I suppose I just hoped it was something fixable.”

“Look, we’ll figure it out. Try different diets, different routines." David nodded and tried not to think about the fact that he and Javi were once again having different conversations and David was the only one who knew it. He didn't think cutting out dairy was going to fix this particular problem. "The doctor said most people learn to manage it. You’re already doing better than you were a couple of days ago.”

David raised an eyebrow at this. “You did see that match, didn’t you?”

“Yes. It wasn’t good. But you were up and running about and not lying face down in a pool of vomit. That’s a big improvement.”

David couldn’t really argue with that. His phone buzzed beside him. A text from Feli flashed up on the screen. David quickly opened it, happy to postpone any conversation that involved pools of vomit. 'Tommy said your match didn’t go well. U ok?' David convulsively clenched his fingers around the phone and inwardly cursed Tommy for an interfering bastard.

“It’s Feli,” he said, in answer to Javi’s unasked question. “Checking if I’m okay.” 

“Oh,” Javi said. “So, um, what’s happening there then?” he asked, too-casually. David shrugged. There was no longer any point pretending nothing was happening. Perhaps there never had been. “I thought you were over all that.”

David laughed. “So did I.”

“Well, you know, I think he’s seen the light. Maybe it’s time to do something about it.” David gaped at his coach, for the first time in days genuinely surprised by something someone said.

“Wait,” he said when he’d pulled his thoughts together. “Are you – are you encouraging this?”

“If it’s a choice between that and watching you mope around for months on end like you did before then, yes, I’m encouraging this.”

“I did not mope,” David said indignantly. 

_Oh yes you did. You were miserable._ “You hid it well,” Javi conceded. “Most people wouldn’t see it.” _But I did._ “Look, I know back then I wasn’t keen on the idea –”

David snorted. “If I remember rightly it was ‘Just set yourself on fire – it’ll hurt less and won’t cause as much mess’”.

“ – but things were different then,” Javi continued as if David hadn’t spoken. “It was years ago, you both had your careers ahead of you.” 

“Whereas now we have our careers behind us?” David said, not entirely flippant.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re thirty. Feli’s thirty one. ‘You’ve got to think about your future’ means something a little different now. You’ve both grown up. You have a better idea of what you want.” 

“This is all a little strange coming from you, you know.”

Javi laughed. “I’m not saying you should propose or anything.” David choked on air and Javi laughed harder. “I just think you two should talk about this. You can’t keep dancing around each other forever.” Javi’s face grew serious. “If you feel about him the way you did before, and if he feels the same – some people go their whole lives without getting that lucky. If you have a chance for happiness you should take it.”

“What if…” What if I don’t feel the same way? What if my feelings aren’t real? What if I wake up one morning and the voices are gone and my feelings along with them? “What if I don’t have a chance for happiness? What if all I have is a chance to fuck everything up and lose a friend?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a risk,” Javi said with a shrug.

“Thanks. As ever, you are full of great advice right up to the point where you’re not.”

“So, are you going to do something about it?” Javi said.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Of course you do. It’s entirely up to you whether you want to throw this away and regret it for the rest of your life. Nothing to do with me at all.”

David glared at him and hit reply. 'I’m fine. Feel better after some sleep. Got my test results – all clear.' He hesitated for a second before adding 'Do you want to come over?', then pressed send before he could change his mind. 

“Happy now?” he grumbled at Javi.

 _If you are._ “Happier.”

Feli’s reply was almost immediate. 'Thank god. I’ll be right over.'

Javi was still there when Feli knocked on the door. David didn’t need to be psychic to know that this was deliberate. Like an over-protective father with a teenage daughter, Javi couldn’t resist giving Feli a hard time whenever possible, despite the fact that David knew Javi liked him a great deal. On this occasion he settled for glaring at Feli as he let him in, before looking pointedly at them both and saying “I expect him to be in one piece tomorrow” and slamming the door. David closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Why wouldn’t you be in one piece tomorrow? What are we doing?” Feli asked, settling on the edge of the bed. _I can think of a few things. Stop it._

David opened his mouth without any thought as to what was going to come out of it. “There’s a Lakers game tonight. Want to go?” He closed his mouth abruptly, biting off the last word. What the fuck? He didn’t have tickets to the Lakers game. What was he doing? 

“Sure, sounds like fun. Are you feeling up to it?”

This was the perfect excuse to get out of it, to say, ‘actually I’m a bit tired maybe we should just watch it on TV’. Instead he said “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Great! Boys’ night out,” Feli said, settling back into the pillows.

David thought about the conversations he’d had with Javi and Tommy. He thought about sitting with Feli for hours and talking about everything and nothing. He thought about waking up with Feli’s arm heavy around his waist. He thought about Feli’s ability to be quiet when David needed him to be quiet, loud when he needed him to be loud. He thought about months, years, of friendly daylight touches being stored away in memories, transformed in the night into desperate strokes and lonely climaxes. He thought about sitting beside Feli and wanting to reach out and touch him, knowing Feli wanted the same thing, and neither of them moving. He thought about going to the Lakers game and coming back afterwards and going to practice tomorrow and going to the next tournament and the next, and all the time pretending, pretending, pretending.

“No,” he said, startling himself almost as much as Feli. “No, not boys’ night out.”

“Okay. Why?”

“I don’t – I don’t want – I – Fuck,” David said.

“Oh, well, that clears that up,” Feli said, his thoughts their usual confusing jumble. David couldn’t look at him. He fiddled with the bed sheet.

“I mean… I didn’t mean we should go out as friends. I meant, like, a date.” Feli’s tangled thoughts abruptly resolved themselves into one comprehensible stream. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._ David turned to look at him. He looked mostly stunned but David thought he saw a flicker of hope in his eyes, or maybe he just fancied he did because he could feel hope sparking in his mind. _Is he serious? Is he messing with me? He wouldn’t do that._ No, I wouldn’t, David thought, unable to say so without treading into dangerous territory. He waited. Feli looked away.

“A date?” Feli said slowly. “You and me? Like, a date that couples go on?” David nodded. “So, you. Does this mean you…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Okay.” For a full minute the only thing David could hear was the thumping of his own heart and the constant litany of _Fuck fuck oh my god fuck_ in Feli’s head. Then: “Yes.” He looked at David, a smile starting at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, I will go out with you. David.” His burgeoning smile turned into a full-blown grin, which David couldn’t have stopped himself returning even if he had wanted to.

“Great. Good,” David said with a relief he hadn’t expected to feel, given that he had very good reason to be confident he wouldn’t be rejected. He had no idea what to do next but it didn’t seem to matter much with Feli and Feli’s smile right in front of him.

“Right. I should go,” Feli said. “Make myself look pretty for you.” He winked and David laughed and shook his head.

“You always look pretty,” David said, and marvelled at the fact that now, just like that, he could say such things and mean them.

Feli’s smile grew, if possible, even wider. He got up from the bed, then leaned forward and kissed David’s cheek. They had done this a thousand times, but this time was different. Feli’s lips lingered on his skin, his stubble rasping his cheek, his hand gently cupping the back of David’s head. David closed his eyes and breathed. _David_

Feli pulled back slowly. His fingers traced David’s jaw. “I’ll see you tonight then,” Feli said. David nodded and watched in silence as Feli walked towards the door. He had to bite his tongue to keep from calling out to him, telling him to stay. Fuck the Lakers just stay here with me. All night. All week. But they needed to take things slowly; this was all so fragile. Feli gave him one last heart-shattering smile over his shoulder, then left. 

David stared stupidly at the closed door for several minutes before suddenly remembering the fundamental flaw in his plan. He scrambled for his phone. 'Need 2 tickets for Lakers game. Help!' The phone rang a couple of minutes later as he was pacing up and down the room. 

“Why?” Juan Carlos said by way of greeting. The amusement he managed to pour into that one word was actually quite impressive.

“I, um, maybe kind of implied I already had tickets. When I don’t.” David winced. It sounded so very stupid when said out loud.

“I see. And just who were you hoping to impress with this little white lie?” David was certain Juan Carlos already knew the answer to that, but was in too good a mood to care.

“Feli,” he said, only a little defensively.

“Jesus Christ, Ferru. That’s your idea of a first date?”

“I never said it was a date,” David said. There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, fine, it's a date. Look, I asked him if he wanted to go and didn’t really think about it and then I didn’t feel like I could take it back. And it’ll be fun,” he added, belatedly stung by the insult to his date-planning skills. The fact that it hadn’t been planned so much as just happened by itself was neither here nor there.

“Fun, yes, but how will it be any different from you and Feli just going to a game like you normally would?”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

Juan Carlos gave a long suffering sigh. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.” He hung up without saying goodbye.

David didn’t care what Juan Carlos said, tonight was going to be different. He ran his thumb absently along his jaw where Feli’s hand had rested earlier, remembered the dawning hope in Feli’s eyes as he realised what David was asking him. It was going to be very, very different.


End file.
